Bloody Hell
by violaqueen93
Summary: She's suffocating in a life of tightly constrained rules and social dictates. He's careening though life at a million miles an hour. What happens when you attach an immovable rock to a comet? Pre-series. Will and Anastasia's origins


**Disclaimer: I own nothing OUAT, OUATIW, or Disney related!**

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><p>It was as if the ceiling had come crashing down on the day that the letter arrived at the Tremarie household. Delivered by a pair of footmen in gilded carriage, Lady Tremarie had simply stood staring at the expensive parchment with all of their names written in gold ink on the outside in Ella's careful script. <em>Lady Tremarie, Drizella Tremarie, Anastasia Tremarie. <em>Upon seeing the letter Drizella had immediately started spouting off unkind remarks about their stepsister, roundly abusing the girl to the extent that Anastasia was considering telling her to quiet down when their mother finally lowered the parchment.

"Well Mother? What does the ungrateful brat say?" Drizella asked eagerly, her nosiness frankly disgusting to Anastasia. If she was being honest with herself, she almost didn't want to hear what Ella had written to them. Though she herself had never said an unkind word to her stepsister nor burdened her with unnecessary work, she hadn't necessarily made an effort to stop her mother or Drizella from doing so, and in her guilty conscience that made her just as culpable. Now that Ella was going to be a princess, what would become of them?

Lady Tremarie seemed to be weighing her words very carefully. "You have been invited to the royal wedding."

Drizella squeaked with excitement. "The _wedding?_ Oh mother, maybe she isn't the spoiled child we thought she was, why, absolutely everyone who's anyone will be there, just wait until I tell the girls and-"

"I did not say you were invited Drizella," Lady Tremarie interrupted. Drizella's mouth dropped open, for once at a loss for words. Ana shivered as her mother turned her icy gaze upon her. "Ella has only seen fit to permit Anastasia to attend the celebrations at the palace."

Ana felt the blood drain from her face as the full weight of her mother and sister's gazes fell upon her. Her mouth felt dry. "Is that so?"

"Why is only Ana invited?" Drizella whined.

"We shall have to prepare," Mother went on briskly, ignoring Drizella completely. "Court customs were never your strong suit but they will need to be perfect, as will your composure, etiquette, conversational skills…we will have to hire a dancing master of course, your footwork is absolutely horrid. I shall see if I can hire the Parson's maid for the day, she is the best in the land for your hair and to paint your face. Also no more sweets," Lady Tremarie frowned as she ran a critical eye over her daughter's frame. "No nobleman will want you with that much extra fat on your figure."

Anastasia was about to ask, but as usual Drizella beat her to the punch. "Why does Anastasia need all that for one ball Mother?"

Lady Tremarie's eyes flashed with an emotion Ana couldn't place, but that sent a trickle of unease down her spine. "Use your brains Drizella! A royal wedding, with hundreds of guests. Countless nobility and foreign dignitaries. This is your sister's best chance of making a match with a prince, or at least a lord, since you both squandered your chances with Prince Thomas."

Drizella hung her head in shame but a spark of defiance had Anastasia stiffening her spine, her chin raised. She hadn't squandered her chances with the prince. She still remembered dancing with him, thinking how very nice he was, but all she could notice at the time was how boring he seemed. Of course, he hadn't wanted to be there at all, a sentiment Ana could understand, so maybe that was to blame for his apathy. Still, even if he were more interesting she didn't stand a chance against Ella. The prince was madly in love with her, he had been since he had first laid eyes on her at the ball. Though Ana hadn't known it was Ella at the time, she remembered how the prince's face had lit up, how he remained at her side for the rest of the night fully enraptured by her.

No, Anastasia hadn't wasted her chances with the prince. He simply wasn't the man for her, as she wasn't the woman for him. Still, pursuing the prince had been both physically and emotionally exhausting for her and she was reluctant to start another quest for a husband. Hardly daring to believe her own nerve, Anastasia spoke up. "Mother, must I focus on finding a husband? I'm in no hurry to marry, I would rather enjoy the castle and the ceremony. Husband hunting would be unseemly at a wedding."

Drizella gaped at her, but Ana's heart sank at her mother's cold laughter. "Always jesting, my Anastasia. Assemble all the gowns you own that would be suitable for such an occasion, we may have to order you a new one. Drizella, assist her. I shall write to the dancing master at once."

"Mother, Mother, please, I-"

Lady Tremarie swept off without another word and Drizella pinched her. Hard. "Stop being ungrateful," she hissed in Ana's ear as Ana yelped, reaching down to massage her tender arm. "You're acting like the spoiled child you are. You're going to attend the royal wedding and find a husband like you're supposed to. Like you're _meant_ to."

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><p>That was a year ago, and Anastasia still couldn't figure out if the invitation to the wedding was a blessing or a curse. The celebration had been tasteful and lovely and Ana could see Ella's touch throughout the festivities. It was there she had caught the eye of Jameson, the first son of some minor nobility attending the palace celebrations and the rest was history. After a whirlwind romance, they were engaged to be wed at the end of the month. Drizella was green with jealousy but her mother was ecstatic, immersing herself in wedding plans and planning out her ascent onto the next rung on the social ladder.<p>

Anastasia felt like throwing up as she sat across from her fiancé.

It wasn't as though Jameson was a bad person necessarily. He was exceedingly courteous and kind to her, and she supposed she did have some affection for her fiancé, but she couldn't muster up any kind of, well, passion for him. She tried to find something about him that would cause her to fall in love, but the spark just wasn't there. Though he was only two years older than she was, he often acted more like a father figure than her fiancé, constantly correcting her behavior, praising her over minute things that made her feel like a child once more. Ana had always pictured her future marriage as a partnership with her husband, but she couldn't picture Jameson ever regarding her as his equal. Any time she tried to engage him in conversations about politics, finances, or business, he would simply laugh and tell her to not worry her pretty head about it, that he would always make sure that she was cared for and adored.

Anastasia didn't want adoration, didn't want to be some nobleman's pretty little wife to show off to the other lords; she wanted to finally be allowed to express her own opinions dammit, to finally escape the shadow of her mother that she had grown up under. Unfortunately, she seemed to be running straight into another shadow.

"My dear?"

Anastasia hurriedly jerked herself out of her musings and focused on where Jameson sat staring expectantly at her. "Wha..what was that?" Last time she had actually listened to what he was saying he had been prattling on about some inconsequential dealings in his father's household. Or had he been praising his own efforts on some project or another? She didn't know, but it had to be one of the two. It was all he ever talked to her about.

He sighed before flashing a wearied smile at her and reaching across to take her hands. "Like I was saying, I'll go retrieve the carriage. It should be done and we need to attend Lord Perrault's soiree this evening, and I know lovely young ladies like to take their time to prepare for such things. I shouldn't be more than an hour or so."

Ana frowned, already halfway to her feet. "Do you not want me to go with you?"

Jameson laughed as he stood, placing a firm hand on her shoulder and gently forcing her back down onto the bench. "What use would you be there? I'll be right back, don't worry, the bartender is an old friend of my father's."

"I'm not a child, I'll be perfectly fine on my own Jameson."

"Of course, darling, of course, I'll be right back," Jameson said distractedly as he kissed her forehead briefly before making his way toward the door. Ana glared at him in annoyance. She hated when Jameson did or said things that made her feel like a helpless child. She was perfectly capable of sitting in a pub by herself, also of visiting a carriage maker for heaven's sake. Twisting the ring on her finger, she moodily contemplated taking it off and throwing it away before sighing and clasping her hands together. _You love Jameson and he loves you. Be grateful you found anyone at all_, she scolded herself, but she only felt worse. How come lately her inner voice sounded uncannily like Mother?

"You don't want to go marrying the likes of him, love." Ana turned to see a young man lounging in the booth just opposite hers, a sardonic smile splashed across his face. He jerked his chin toward Jameson's retreating back. "Bloke like him won't be able to satisfy a lady such as yourself." Dressed in a simple vest, black pants, and functional boots, Ana guessed he was one of the merchant classes though there was an air of something else about him, a sly set to his mouth and a charisma that screamed thief or con man.

Spluttering in shock, Ana instinctively turned on her haughtiest attitude. "I beg your pardon, but I don't believe that it's any of your business."

His smile only grew wider at her indignant words but before she could open her mouth again he was sliding into the seat opposite hers. "Ahh see that's where you're wrong," he said sagely, taking a sip of the ale he carried in his hand. The young man winked at her. "It's always my business when a pretty girl is involved."

Ana felt her face redden. _Stop that! Who does he think he is, he's just a rogue, you should tell him to leave you alone right now._ Despite her annoyance, she felt a flush of pleasure rush through her at his compliment. When was the last time she felt that when Jameson said the same thing? She couldn't remember, and the though distressed her so much that she almost didn't realize the man was still talking. "Especially when that pretty girl is about to make a mistake." He raised his mug and inclined his head at her before taking another swig.

"And how do you know I'm making a mistake?" She asked before she could stop herself. Ana cursed herself as soon as the question left her lips, but despite his irritatingly forward way of talking, he had piqued her curiosity. "Why do you even care? You don't even know me."

"I know you're the type of girl who don't like to do as you're told. Who hates the day to day routine….and I'm guessing has a bit of a rebellious streak?"

She raised her chin. "Better than an insufferably rude streak like you seem to have."

The young man burst into laughter at her retort. "You may be right there, love. Now, before you get to insulting me more I seem to realize we haven't been properly introduced. Will Scarlett at your service, my lady."

Ana's gaze flicked to his proffered hand before narrowing her eyes at his face. "If it's all the same I'd prefer not to be talking to you Will Scarlett. I tend to keep company with people who don't feel the need to pry into my affairs, much less when I barely know them!" This Will Scarlett was one of the rudest men Anastasia had ever encountered, but she couldn't help replying to his ridiculous overtures. "And since we don't know each other, I suggest you return to your table at once sir.

Will folded his hands together, that smug grin never leaving his face. "Well we'll have to change that won't we? Can I buy you a drink then? "

Anastasia groaned, putting her head in her hands. Though she wholeheartedly wished he would just go and leave her alone, she had to admit arguing with him provided a better way to pass the time than just sitting by herself. She felt more alive than she had in months as the blood pounded in her ears. Usually Jameson wouldn't tolerate any sort of conflict. She propped her chin on folded fingers. "Mr. Scarlett, what do you hope to accomplish by being so annoying?

"I'd fancy a bit of conversation to start," he replied easily, motioning for the bartender to bring them both another pint of ale as she reluctantly nodded in acquiescence to the concerned look the bartender leveled at her. "and if you'd just call me Will, none of that Mr. Scarlett nonsense. Plus you interest me, love. I see you come in here for the past few weeks with that bloke, seem to be having a mediocre time and next thing you know there's a ring on that finger of yours and you're planning on marrying the chap!" Will sat back with a perplexed look on his face, as if her life was the ultimate source of contention for him. "Now why would girl like yourself settle for someone who don't make you happy?"

"Jameson does make me happy, he's all I want to be happy and-" she paused as the barkeep placed two pints of ale on the table between them. Manners compelled her to nod and smile at the man in thanks before turning back to the insufferable Will Scarlett, who had made a face at Jameson's name, muttering under his breath _bloody nancy boy name, can't even get himself a respectable name,_ "and I love him. Why am I telling you this?" The last bit was more for herself than it was for Will Scarlett, and she reached out and took hold of the pint before giving the contents a tentative sniff. "I've never had this drink before. What is it?

"Don't tell me you've never had beer!" Will asked incredulously, his face morphing into one of shock. "Never left home before, have you?"

Once again, Ana felt her pride rebel against the patronizing tone in his voice. "I grew up with more refined beverages than beer," she retorted, "I prefer wine." She eyed the beer apprehensively. The liquid was amber in color and smelled like bread. How odd.

When she mentioned it to him, Will rolled his eyes as he took a large gulp of his own drink. "Bloody hell, you're even more sheltered than I pegged you for."

Annoyance flashed through Ana. "I beg your pardon?" She felt her temper rising again at Will Scarlett's obvious condescension. _Mother, Jameson, now this man, will no one show me any sort of respect?!_

"Rich lass like yourself, out of your element," He sighed. Getting to his feet, Will bent down, a pitying expression on his face. "Don't worry sweetheart, I'll get you one of them fancy drinks and…"

The words died on his lips as Ana lifted the pint to her lips and chugged the entire thing down, slamming the empty glass down on the table. A surge of elation flashed through her at his stunned expression as she wiped the foam from her mouth. Surprisingly, she felt powerful, and she felt the anger ebbing away. Will's mouth was still hanging open and she couldn't hold back a peal of laughter.

Will's expression softened at the sound and he dropped back into his seat, a grin crossing his face. "Bloody hell."

"Anastasia." Her name escaped on a soft note before she could stop herself. At his puzzled expression, Ana smiled and held out a hand to him. "M'name's Anastasia."

His grin stretched wider as he reached across the table and grasped her hand tightly. "Well, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Anastasia," he murmured, his eyes sparkling at her. "I'm sure we'll be the best of friends before you know it."


End file.
